Words skitter by
Floating, flowing
Dodging them, I
Dance the seven
Veils of silence
Gathering ideas in
Grecian gown folds
Call me Isadora
Right now, body is
Choreographing, while
Cognition pauses its
Machinations
Today, sun’s warmth
Hints at spring
Just as tulip leaves
Unfurl from
Thawing ground
Muddy and mucky
So too, do I
Twisting, rising
Arms upturned
A chalice waiting
To be filled
About the Creator
Aspen Marie
In love with life and all of its foibles.
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Compelling and original writing
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Becca
"Everything is so... flat." Denille said stupidly as she looked around her new neighborhood. She looked around at the muted desert where even the smallest sign of life seemed to have given up. The plant life was shrubs that were half cooked by the heat and where there should have been a lawn, a mess of white rocks laid glistening in the sun. Even the sky looked stretched thin, like the sun had ironed it smooth. She’d moved from Riverside, where at least there were hills, but here in Barstow, everything felt baked and brittle.
By Sara Wilsona day ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
The cup is empty when its full, full when its empty, the streaming paradox of life! Well-wrought!
Wow, this one feels very flowy! Not gonna lie, reading this made me stretch my arms.... then immediately remembered I’m just standing in my room holding a snack. Humans are weird like that. Also tulips popping out of muddy ground is such a mood —same energy as me trying to be productive after a nap 😭🤧
The movement and imagery here are gorgeous. Loved it 👏👏👏
Oh you meant tulip leaves as in a leaf. I thought the tulip left and was so confused, lol. Pffft, English! 🤣🤣🤣 Loved your poem!